


N, Unplugged

by alunsina



Series: VIXX Three Sentence Ficathon fills [2]
Category: VIXX
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-04-08 22:57:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4324014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alunsina/pseuds/alunsina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hakyeon post-filming and how he deals (with the pain, and the tiredness, and oh pain?). And how his members deal with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	N, Unplugged

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for the prompt: N is so tired but Hyuk is there to make up for his lack of energy--always, again from the VIXX Three Sentence Ficathon.

Everything hurts, in that acute and bone-deep way, that for his every breath there’s the stretch and pull of strained muscle across his chest and shoulders, the twinge running from his ribs to the tips of his toes, and he feels the weight of all his 26 years on earth. Hakyeon has the sneaking suspicion that against all odds he has managed to pull every muscle in his entire body. All of them. He tells this emphatically to the ceiling of their dorm room, because telling it to anyone else requires far more participation from his neck muscles than he is comfortable with, and clearly, using other muscle groups would be tempting fate at this point.

"No, hyung, you are not dying. Why are you always like this when you do anything else other than dancing?" It's Hyukkie. It has to be. He's doing that giggle-snort-laugh he has perfected around Jaehwan and around Hakyeon now too, lately. Sanghyuk was a cute, obedient, dongsaeng once.

"I am practically in my deathbed. Please stop taking selcas of me, you two, this is not funny." His hands twitch (ow), wanting to throw something at Sanghyuk's and Hongbin's faces. He can hear the shutter of Hongbin's camera go off again and pretty sure the picture is going to show up in their chatroom this week. Or worse, at the end of the year Christmas party Jellyfish throws for the staff and their artists: exhibit A, this is Hakyeon hyung sleeping on the job, doing an accurate impression of a wooden plank on our dorm room floor; exhibit B, still Hakyeon hyung sleeping on the job, talking about the cold in his bones and being old.

Hongbin pops up in his field of vision. Hakyeon is grateful for the pleasant change in the scenery, but is still feeling a little resentful in the way Hongbin is towering over him and peering down at his immobile body on the floor.

"Hyung, seems to me you're doing better now if you are complaining already," Hongbin says, crouching beside him, poking Hakyeon and his bare shoulder slathered with mentholated pain ointments since he got home from filming. Hakyeon may have made a scary face because Hongbin goes wide-eyed. "Oh, okay, sorry. So not better then?"

No. A whole expanse of no.

There is nothing much to be done about Hakyeon's condition at the moment. Jaehwan makes a great impression of a wailing housewife when he comes back late from his uni classes and finds him on the floor ("They broke him. They've broken hyung, what do we do??"). Taekwoon decides it wouldn't do for Hakyeon to be moved, so he and Wonshik drag Hakyeon's futon from his room, get Hakyeon's blankets and his favorite pillow, place a glass of water within easy reach on the floor. Still, even with all the creature comforts of having members at his (somewhat) beck and call, Hakyeon lies awake in the middle of the night in their dim living room, suddenly dreading the next morning, thinking about how can he do this again, how can he do this tomorrow and all the days after. He just wants to stay still and disappear into the woodwork.

Shuffling noises. Someone stumbling their way in and out of the bathroom. But instead of making their way back to their own room, they pause in the hallway. Hakyeon tries to even out his breathing.

Then that someone taking decisive steps towards the living room, flopping next to Hakyeon and accidentally elbowing him in the process.

"Sorry!" Sanghyuk says in response to Hakyeon's hiss of pain. Hakyeon can't see Sanghyuk's face (neck muscle rebellion still ongoing, and it's dark, very dark) but his apology sounds sincere.

"Can't sleep?" Hakyeon asks, always trying to make conversation even at 3 am in the morning.

"Not really," Sanghyuk says, almost hesitant in volunteering the answer. "It's a bit cold." Even in the darkness, Sanghyuk's all long limbs and huge presence, and Hakyeon involuntarily (a bit painfully) scoots away in his little futon, trying to make space for him.

Sanghyuk encloses a gentle hand around Hakyeon's right wrist. "Don't move, hyung, geez you'll be complaining all about it tomorrow." He gets on Hakyeon's futon anyway, goes under the blankets.

"You know, you were right. Once you stopped whining about it, it's not so funny anymore," Sanghyuk says.

"I was whining? Yah, Hyukkie!"

A small tug on his wrist. "I thought you'd be lonely staying here alone without someone to complain to." Sanghyuk let's go of Hakyeon's wrist yet strangely keeps contact with Hakyeon's pinky. Hakyeon has in countless ways glomped on, latched himself like a clingy sea creature onto Sanghyuk's side. But having Sanghyuk curl his own tiny finger with Hakyeon's is the most intimate act somehow, and it grounds him, feels the nagging thoughts in his mind go low and quiet.

"Get some rest, hyung. I'll be here to whine at in the morning," Sanghyuk says.

It is morning, Hakyeon wants to bite back, but he's suddenly drowsy and falls asleep with Sanghyuk warm on his side.


End file.
